I Just Went Out For Groceries
by rhinosgirl
Summary: When Hobie finds out about Mitch being in a coma (7E11), he blames the wrong people and does something he comes to deeply regret. Written for LiveJournal H/C Bingo (Prompt: DRUGGED)


"Hey, Hobie, how's your Dad?" the shopkeeper greeted the teen while ringing up his purchases.

"He's fine," Hobie Buchannon said pleasantly, his mind and hands busy sorting out the correct change for a loaf of bread, a bottle of milk, and a tub of chocolate ice cream.

"Glad to hear it," the man enthused. "He gave us quite a scare there, getting poisoned and going into a coma and nearly dying like that. I'm glad he is feeling better, though."

At this completely unexpected proclamation, Hobie's head snapped up, his eyes wide. "Thank you," he said frostily. He left his groceries where they were, and hastily exited the shop while stuffing his change into his pocket. Once outside, he sat heavily down on the ground before he fell over. His legs were wobbliiiing like cooked spaghetti, and his eyes were seeing more spots than were on a leap of leopards.

His mind churned with a whirlwind of questions. What coma? Poisoned by what? How bad had it really been? And more importantly, why hadn't he been notified? He'd been out-of-state at his Mom's, not off the earth in a space rocket, for goodness' sake! Someone from the team should have called him! His mind was so focused on finding out the answers to his questions that he didn't even hear the shopkeeper shouting out to him. Fisting his hands to try and stop himself from hitting someone, he took a deep calming breath and turned around, deciding to head to the library to begin his investigations.

"Hello, Hobie! How's your father?" "Hey, Hobie, glad Mitch is okay!" "Hobie, tell your Dad he'd better get better soon!" By the time Hobie reached the library the whirlwind had upgraded to a tornado. The whole county seems to know more about my Dad's health than I do, he griped to himself.

Keeping his head low, he entered the building and headed straight to the stack of old newspapers. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for; the headlines hit him straight in the gut: BAYWATCH LIEUTENANT IN COMA, INVESTIGATION AFTER LOCAL MAN FALLS ILL, NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE FOR SWIMMER.

Finding a quiet corner, Hobie avidly scoured the newspapers for all the information he could find. Within just a few minutes he had read three newspapers and had a good summary of what had happened – Mitch had gone swimming in water contaminated by leaking drums filled with chemical waste and then illegally dumped. While his condition rapidly deteriorated in hospital, CJ, Neely, Cody, and Caroline all visited him.

I wonder why that was worth mentioning, Hobie thought, before fury enveloped him and he scrunched up the side of the newspaper stack as he carried it to the photocopier.

Taking the newspapers, the librarian scowled. "Did you damage these?"

"I'm sorry," Hobie apologised with a charming smile.

"That will be $15," said the librarian dully.

Hobie's mouth dropped in astonishment, and the librarian answered by jerking her thumb to the sign on the wall titled Damages. Hobie sighed in resignation, dug out some change, threw it on the desk, and took his newspapers with him to the one computer available for public research to find out as much about the drug his father had ingested as he could. He wanted to know what their future might hold.

Hobie stared at the computer screen in disbelief. He rechecked the newspaper article for the third time. Yes, that was definitely it. Anger, disbelief, and fear fought for supremacy in his mind. How dare they!? he thought angrily. Dad's life is in danger, and it's all their fault!

After going back to pick up and pay for the groceries, Hobie went straight home, anxious to reassure himself that his father was fit and well.

A red car followed Hobie into the drive. He exited the car and turned to greet the visitor.

"Hi, Hobie!" Did you have oof!" The sentence was cut short as Cody's breath was knocked out of him, then Hobie slammed him into the side of the car.

"You've got some nerve turning up here," Hobie fiercely whispered, so Mitch wouldn't hear anything. "What the heck, Cody? My father goes into a coma, and instead of calling me, the four of you spend all of your time either visiting him or chasing around after criminals. Five minutes, Cody. That's all it would have taken, five minutes! But no, I had to find out from an overly chatty shopkeeper and a bunch of old newspapers!" Finally, his frustration, fear, anxiety, and anger boiled over. He uncurled his fist and slammed it into Cody's stomach. Cody doubled over sideways and Hobie raised his foot and rammed it into Cody's butt. The injured lifeguard sprawled onto the grass and instinctively curled himself into a ball to avoid serious injury. Hobie had just enough time to land a couple of hefty kicks before his father sprinted out of the house and arrived on the scene.

"Hobie Mitchell Buchannon! How dare you! Get inside now!" he ordered, pulling his son away and shoving him toward the door of the house, then bending down to tend to the injured man.

Hobie stood under the shower, letting the scalding water and harsh rubbing of the washcloth sluice every negative emotion from his body and mind. At least until his father returned. That meeting didn't happen until the next morning, so Hobie was able to get a relatively restful night's sleep.

"Morning, Dad," Hobie greeted, when he entered the kitchen. He was answered by silence. "Did you sleep well?" he tried again. Still no answer. "You were away for a long time yesterday." Without speaking, Mitch took his plate of bacon and eggs and moved to the table. The uncomfortable silence was finally broken when the doorbell rang. Phew, Hobie thought, as he answered the door. But when he saw who was there, his face darkened.

"What do you want?" Hobie enquired rudely. The visitor silently passed him an envelope.

"What's this?"

"An official apology, straight from Headquarters. You're right, one of should have taken the time to notify you. I'm really sorry, Hobie. It can't have been easy to find out about it from a complete stranger and a newspaper article. I am really sorry."

After bidding his visitor goodbye, Hobie turned. Seeing his father's bewildered face, he silently brushed past Mitch and headed up the stairs. Only a couple of steps up, he felt his father's hand on his shoulder.

"Hobie…"

"Leave me alone!" Hobie moved to twist out of his father's grasp.

"No." Mitch tightened his grip slightly. "We need to talk about this."

"That's funny," Hobie sneered. "A few minutes ago I was desperate to get a word out of you and you were ignoring me. Now I _have_ to talk?"

"I was angry at you," Mitch admitted.

"Yeah, well, I'm angry at you, too," Hobie muttered.

"And that's a good enough reason to beat up Cody?"

Hobie stiffened, his anger and hurt quickly returning. "CJ, Neely, Cody, and Caroline all visited you in hospital. That means that all four of them knew exactly what was going on, yet none of them let me know! Cody happened to be the first one of them I came across, that's all."

Mitch decided to revisit his son's temper at another time. "You really found out from a newspaper article?" Hobie nodded. "Have you still got it?" Hobie nodded again. "Can you go and get it for me?" Hobie nodded a third time, and continued up the stairs to his bedroom, where he chose the one newspaper with the most informative article in it: NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE FOR SWIMMER.

When Hobie returned, Mitch motioned him to sit on the step below the one Mitch had settled on. Once Hobie was settled, Mitch pulled him back to rest against his chest. Hobie reluctantly smiled as Mitch gently carded his hair and kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you myself." Mitch apologised.

"You were in a coma." Hobie shushed him.

"It didn't happen in an instant," Mitch admitted quietly. "I had more than enough time to make sure somebody rang you." He screwed his nose. "I have also had plenty of opportunities since I came out of it. I'm sorry," he repeated sincerely.

Hobie grasped Mitch's forearms and squeezed. "It's okay. You're okay."

"Let's have a look at this article," Mitch ordered softly. Hobie straightened up and opened the newspaper to show his Dad.

Mitch frowned. There were so many errors in the article that they almost surpassed the facts. Some didn't matter at all – the colour of the boat, for instance. Others were mildly annoying, like "Buchannon" being misspelt "Buchanan". But the most damning of all - "Is that the drug you researched?" he inquired sharply.

"Yeah, so?" Hobie asked defensively.

"What did you find out?" Mitch linked his arms loosely around Hobie's neck.

"Kidney damage. Degenerating eyesight. Migraines. Liver cancer." Hobie bit his lip to stop himself going on for, it seemed, an eternity. His lower eyelids flooded and he blinked furiously to clear them, his body going rigid in his father's arms.

Shit! Mitch mentally swore. Bloody media! It was no wonder the boy had freaked out. Mitch curled Hobie close.

"I'm so sorry, son. This should never have happened," he comforted, pressing the youth's face into his shoulder.

They stayed that way, still and silent – except for Hobie's heaving shoulders and Mitch's murmurings of support – for a long while. Eventually Mitch pulled back, wiping away his son's tears.

"Hobie, look at me, pal." He took the boy's chin in his hands and waited patiently until Hobie lifted his head to meet his eyes. Mitch flinched at the raw terror he saw there, and hastened to reassure the boy. "I am going to be absolutely fine. That wasn't the name of the drug that poisoned me."

Hobie pushed himself away from his father's hand. "WHAT?" He gasped unbelievingly.

"It wasn't that drug that poisoned me." Mitch repeated. "I can't remember the name of the one that did, but that wasn't it. CJ, Neely, Cody, and Caroline were instrumental in finding that out for us. And whatever drug it was, it has no known long-term side effects. What those four found out helped the doctors figure that out, too, _and_ an antidote."

"I guess I have a friend to find," Hobie mumbled.

"I guess you do," Mitch agreed.


End file.
